Glimpses 3
by Sandra S
Summary: A collection of short - sometimes very short - episode-tags for Season 3
1. On Guard

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

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On Guard

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Jones has seen some pretty weird things over the years working for the FBI. Done too, and not only since Caffrey came along. Peter asking him to get a lie detector off record and set it up in an abandoned warehouse in one of the seedier parts of town is a new one, though. It is not … _quite_ unexpected, however, that it is their somewhat unpredictable criminal consultant he ends up hooking up to the device while keeping his own face carefully neutral. He has no idea what caused this abrupt falling-out between his boss and Neal right after Adler's warehouse blew up – Peter wouldn't tell and Neal seemed genuinely angry and insulted when he dropped him off at June's earlier – but is willing to follow Peter's lead for the time being.

And almost right from the start it is clear to him that the con man is hiding something. It is written in the blue ice of his eyes, screams out of the controlled mask of his face, and when he answers the careful impassivity of his voice holds a defiant challenge that starts alarm bells ringing in Jones's head.

Now though, as the night wears on and Peter prowls restlessly around the rickety table, snapping the same and always the same questions at Caffrey, crowding him, invading his personal space with thinly veiled aggression … he seriously wonders if he should put a stop to it before things go too far.

In the end he doesn't.

Because, while he has witnessed this kind of reckless behavior in men crazed with fury he has seen it also in men maddened with grief. And the longer he watches the more he can see hidden anguish bleeding through in each of Peter's angry gestures, the rigid set of his shoulders, the unhappy twist of his mouth.

And the simple truth is that no matter how much he might like Caffrey – and he does like him, he honestly does – when it comes down to a choice he knows he will always side with Peter.


	2. Where There's A Will

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

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Where There's A Will

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"What are you doing, grandpa?"

Standing in the doorway Savannah sleepily cuddled her stuffed animal close as the old man at the desk lifted his eyes and regarded her over the top of his reading glasses. Then Nathaniel Roland smiled a bit sadly.

"I am making atonement, darling," he answered quietly, his gaze returning for a moment to the papers in front of him, "Or so I hope."

"What is a a–to–thing?"

The little girl padded over and graciously allowed to be pulled up on her grandfather's lap.

"Atonement," Roland repeated patiently, "It means being sorry for something you did and trying to make it better."

"But you never do anything wrong," Savannah protested with a frown. She understood neither why her grandfather's arms tightened gently around her nor the regret in his voice.

"Oh, I did, darling. I did and I see the result every day. But–," he continued much more cheerfully, "– it is just as well you sneaked away from you nap – which you should not do by the way – because I have a present for you."

"A present?" Savannah asked eagerly, squirming to look around then squealed with delight on seeing what Roland was pulling out of a drawer. "A bracelet!"

Her grandfather laughed.

"Well, close enough. It's an anklet, you wear it around your leg. So up you go … there."

Twisting her foot in the air Savannah admired the new golden chain around her slender ankle, touching her finger to the dangling pendants.

"This is pretty!" she exclaimed. "Oh, thank you, grandpa!"

Turning on his knees she hugged him enthusiastically and pressing his cheek into her blond hair Roland briefly closed his eyes.

"Now, Savannah," he then said, holding her a little way off, "I want you to promise me something important regarding this anklet, all right? I want you to promise me you will wear this anklet every single day from now on and to take very, very, _very_ good care of it so it won't get lost. Can you do that for me, hmm?"

The little girl nodded solemnly. "I promise, grandpa. Pinky swear."

Roland laughed. "Pinky swear. No run along like a good girl before your father starts looking for you."

"Dad is still arguing with Uncle James," Savannah stated matter-of-factly but slipped obediently from her grandfather's lap.

The old man watched with a strange mixture of sadness and amusement as she scurried to the door and disappeared in the hall beyond. Then for a heartbeat there was only regret in his face. Taking a deep breath Nathaniel Roland turned back to the two different versions of testament on his desk, and picking up his best pen forged the signatures on the witness lines with utmost care.


	3. Deadline

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

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Deadline

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And disconnecting Mozzie's frantic call from the airport there is one tiny fraction of a second that Neal hates Peter.

Hates him with all his heart for somehow always being one step ahead of him, for knowing him too well, for countering his every move.

Then Peter flexes his eyebrows across the distance of the office with that infuriating, knowing, secretive smile – _I know you, I know what you were trying to do, and you know you brought this on yourself..._ The thrill of the hunt, the joy of the game they both share and Neal's hatred melts away into the grudging admiration he can never help feeling when being cleverly outmaneuvered by some worthy opponent.

He can concede this round to Peter with a measure of good grace.

He can not, however, forget this brief flash of emotion he felt at the bottom of his heart. And fears it.


	4. Dentist Of Detroit

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

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Dentist Of Detroit

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It is different. Since Keller kidnapped Peter. Elizabeth is not quite sure why – she knew what she was in for, basically, when she married a FBI agent. Has been now the wife of a FBI agent for more than ten years. She worries, yes, when Peter puts in long hours, gets his telltale excitement before a sting, sometimes kisses her goodbye a little too intensely. White collar crimes or not his work is still dangerous and will always be. They talk about it, sometimes. Seldom. It is one of the few subjects they normally avoid in mutual understanding. What is the point, after all? Peter then only feels bad for making her worry and El for making him feel bad.

She knows – and she knows Peter knows – that it was a case of _'saved by the bell'_ in the kitchen. Neal's timing was impeccable as usual even if he didn't know it. The silent plea for forgiveness in her husband's eyes somehow made it worse, though. Peter should not have to apologize for what he is, for what he does! She never wanted to be one of those wives adding to the burden of their husbands. Demanding … unreasonable promises.

But Mozzie's ready admission that Deluca is a killer scares her. Scares her really, really badly. She rallies valiantly enough but still – horrible as it is when she closes the door of his hotel room she can not help standing there for just one moment and praying with all her might:

_God, please, please if anyone really HAS to take a bullet from Deluca… _


	5. Veiled Threat

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: * = quote from the episode 3.05 – Veiled Threat

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Veiled Threat

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When Neal gets the text from Peter – _c el _– he actually wastes about half a minute wondering like a fool what Latin abbreviation the FBI agent might be mutilating here. Then he realizes it means _Call El_ and remembers what Peter is supposed to be doing right now and more importantly where _Elizabeth_ is supposed to be and his heart plummets like a stone.

El is closer to hysterical than he has ever seen her when he jumps out of the cab at the corner across from Selena's apartment building, dabbing at tears she's furiously trying to suppress. The issue being, as Neal gathers quickly, not only that she has just witnessed her husband being almost run down by a car – terrifying enough in itself – but that she was not allowed to stay, not allowed to hold him, to care for him afterward. Neal doesn't dare imagine what it must have taken out of her to turn her back and walk away to preserve Peter's cover; and this whole thing coming on top of the unfortunate Dentist of Detroit affair is not helping matters any.

He calms her down as best as he can and takes her home, staying with her until he is sure she can handle it. Then frets the whole way back to the office over what could have happened. And though he knows Peter is all right both by El's account and his text message … while his first words on seeing him well and unharmed on the stairs might be _"She's fine"_ his second still are _"How close was it?"* _


	6. Scott Free

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: * = quote from the episode 3.06 – Scott Free

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Scott Free

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In all honesty, Scott was all packed and ready to go. Slip out of New York, out of the State – he had always wanted to visit California … but somehow he couldn't get what Caffrey said out of his head.

It wasn't exactly those things about getting caught eventually. About a life always looking back over your shoulder because, come on, he was young, he was clever, he had the world at his feet and company was overrated anyway. Though – he had to admit – there was something in Caffrey's expression when he asked him to let him help him that did get under his skin.

But what Scott couldn't stop thinking about was Caffrey's answer when he asked why a fed would buy them time.

_Because he's Peter.* _

Because he's Peter.

And the simplicity of it, the utter certainty – the strange, irrational wish to be able to rely so blindly, so unquestioningly on someone, anyone somewhere someday – was what tipped the scales in the end. What made Scott take a deep breath and enter the FBI building.


	7. Taking Account

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

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Taking Account

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June was a sweet old lady who doted lovingly on her grandchildren.

She had been her husband's confidant, the keeper of his secrets, the guardian of his success.

She could beat anybody – even Neal – at poker. With a vengeance.

She had had to look out for herself in a time and place where women, especially black women, were still considered lesser human beings.

She had been called a nigger whore and struck across the face by both police and FBI bullies as they raided her and Byron's gambling club.

She had always taken great pleasure in deceiving the fine men of law-enforcement who treated her like dirt whenever and wherever she could.

She had never given a rat's ass if the working class gambling addicts she goaded on at the tables to take greater risks had wives or children who might have needed the money so foolishly spent.

She never cared if the gangsters they fleeced at the club would just turn round and squeeze the money they lost out of some desperate shopkeeper, struggling long hours to support his family somehow.

Secure in her wealth she never spent a moment's thought about living a daydream she didn't earn.


	8. As You Were

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

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As You Were

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"Peter?"

"Hmm?"

Still holding one headphone against his ear Peter glanced across the cramped interior of the van at Jones. The younger man took a deep breath.

"I wanted to thank you. For trusting me. Believing in me." He paused and breathed in again deeply, choosing his next words. "For believing I wouldn't let my emotions get the better of me again and letting me go into that building. I … just wanted you to know how much I appreciate it."

Peter cocked his head sideways then slowly put the headphones down.

"Clinton," he said gently, ignoring the surprise flickering across Jones's face at being addressed by his given name, "You are a good agent. And I might not tell you this often enough – no. Please let me finish. You are a good agent. Smart. Compassionate. Thorough. Reliable. One day you will be an excellent lead agent. And you should not have allowed Horn to get to you like that. But…" His lips twisted in a wry smile "… I hit Fowler."

For a few heartbeats Jones only stared at him then his lips, too, twitched with a smile.

"Yeah," he nodded, "Yeah, you so did."

Peter wordlessly lifted his hands. And indeed the gesture told it all.

"Thank you," Jones said again and Peter only nodded. Clearing his throat Jones pointed at the empty plastic cups in front of them. "Want some more coffee?"

"Sure. Looks like we'll need it," Peter answered with a glance at the silent receiver.

He watched the younger man clamber out of the van and tapped his fingers on his thigh a few times. Then he impulsively reached for his cellphone and called Neal.


	9. On The Fence

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: * = quote from 3.09 – On The Fence

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On The Fence

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There is probably some kind of warped poetic justice supposed to be in all this. Neal is certainly aware of the irony.

Why, since he and Mozzie have the treasure life has put him in a position to argue with a kidnapper about the difficulty not of committing a crime but getting away with it; to worry about Mozzie doing something stupid and getting himself killed (again) much like Peter always seems to worry about him, Neal; to convince young 'Robin Hoodie' Scott not only that Peter always catches his man but that a life on the run is not a life worth living … and once again get a taste of Peter's problems when it seemed at first that the youngster had not listened to him. Not to mention his little scheme to draw the Vulture (who was, in fact, not the Vulture) out has just made an unwelcome return visit when Keller pretended he was stealing the art.

Oh, yes, Neal is aware of the irony. He can't appreciate it though.

The treasure – when he first stood there in the middle of it – the art, the sparkling – it's a _dream_. The score of a lifetime as Mozzie put it. How can you walk away from that? How can it not be worth this life of looking over one's shoulder he so strongly advised Scott against? Yeah, it's a dream. A daydream. The sort of daydream Sara will not share with him though she likes – loves? – him enough to keep his secrets safe.

It has taken Jones and his 'choices are sacrifices' for him to truly realize that the treasure is only one part – and the smallest one at that – of Neal Caffrey's definition of 'have it all'. That maybe his real treasure is the immaterial one: To live a life that makes a difference … and to share it with the right people.

To lie to Mozzie about the U-boat manifest there in Peter and Elizabeth's bedroom was as good as a decision to stay and see it through somehow.

Neal has wondered ever since what would have happened if Moz had called first. He doesn't know. He doesn't want to know. He only knows he wants _this_, he wants to stay. He thought. He thinks. He doesn't know. It's what it would be fair to tell Mozzie, here and now, now that Mozzie is sitting in this chair right in front of him and asking _"You lied to me?"*_ with disbelief and anger in his eyes. And he … can't. He _CAN'T_.

He can't tell him right to the face _Yes, yes I did_.

He just can't tell his best friend _Your dream is not my dream any more_.

Because Mozzie is still part of Neal's dream.

And so he hems and haws and tries to divert the topic because really it was Moz who did something wrong here by selling the Degas without telling him… And of course it makes everything worse.


	10. Countdown

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: I actually wrote a rather dark end-of-episode tag for Countdown back in the day (called Breaking Point, shameless self-promotion here, I know). This one is … different.

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Countdown

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The internet is a vast, mysterious jungle and like any place beyond normal human understanding it has its phantoms few have ever seen, and legends that tell their stories. The MIASBOANYS-clip (also known as the _Man-In-A-Suit-Base jumping-Off-A-New-York-Skyscraper_-clip) is one of those elusive phantoms.

It shows or is said to be showing – as the name implies – a man in a dark suit base jumping off a skyscraper in New York. Apparently there are at least four different versions of it, most capturing free fall and opening of the parachute from varying angles but there seems to be at least one excellent filming of the landing (regrettably catching only the back of the very handsome jumper) from the perfect touchdown, over the man nonchalantly handing off a long tube to a short, bespectacled henchman and flipping a hat jauntily on his head, to a couple of kids unobtrusively bundling up the discarded parachute. That one is also known by true connoisseurs as Fastest-FedEx-Delivery-EVER.

Very few have ever been fortunate enough to glimpse a brief moment of the MIASBOANYS on YouTube or private journals. Many are searching for it in vain, seeking to save this prize beyond measure by any means they can … but those in the know will warn you that this famous legend is a dangerous prey.

For like a shadow the clip is followed by a masterpiece of computer virus, slipping through any firewall, fooling any antivirus program, crashing any server, any computer, silently but unerringly erasing any trace of the MIASBOANYS wherever you try to keep it. And it is whispered in the communities and chat rooms that when it does you can – very faintly – hear a short, balding man screaming…


	11. Checkmate

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

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Checkmate

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Throwing Caffrey in the back of the truck is a work of moments. Sensible too – better dispose of the body somewhere on the way out of town than have it lying around where the cops would stumble across it all too soon. There is also a kind of twisted humor in it, giving Caffrey his last ride in the midst of the treasure he so inexplicably hesitated to accept. And yet, after swinging up after him Keller finds himself hesitating.

It would be so easy. To end this game for good. Just some pressure here … and here … left and right of the windpipe. Cutting off the flow of blood to the brain. There would be no death struggle. No last desperate fight. Just a slow fading away as the vital organ fails gradually. Easy. He has his fingers on the right places. Even bears down with all his strength for a fleeting heartbeat … and draws his hand away.

Getting up instead Keller pulls and pushes at the crates, moving the load in frantic haste to get at the fake wall they installed in the back of the truck. Wrenching the compartment halfway open he then goes on and heaves Caffrey's limp body into the small space. And if the other man's head gets banged around a bit on wood and steel in the process it gives him a grim kind of satisfaction. Breathing hard Keller then piles the crates back against the fake rear as fast as he can and scrambles out, securing the tarp with flying fingers. A glance to the other end of the building shows him the cops still chatting among themselves. Straightening the stolen jacket with a quick jerk he strolls to the front of the truck and climbs behind the wheel, starts the engine.

All the while very deliberately not thinking too hard about what he is doing.

Or why.


	12. Upper West Side Story

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

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Upper West Side Story

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After letting Neal and a curiously different-looking Evan off a block from Wood's apartment Peter and Diana just sat in the parked car for a time. Finally Diana glanced sideways.

"You all right, boss?" she asked quietly.

Peter sighed, knowing she was not talking about the current case. "Yeah."

"You … and Neal doing all right?"

He looked out the window.

"Neal," he finally answered heavily, "is sorry that Elizabeth was put in danger because of him."

Diana glanced away as she thought about this and his obvious frustration of it then looked back at him.

"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it?" she ventured at last.

Peter drew a deep breath and threw her a meaningful glance.

"He is sorry Elizabeth was endangered. Not for keeping the art."

"Oooh." Diana pursed her lips in understanding as she drew the sound out, making it the vocal equivalent of _ow_.

"Yeah." Peter sighed then checked the time. "Right, that's enough of a head start for them, let's be punctual for our dinner appointment. Danielle."


	13. Neighborhood Watch

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

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Neighborhood Watch

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On seeing Neal jog back across the street after dropping down off the flat roof over Ben and Rebacca's entrance, Mozzie rolled down the window.

"Problem resolved, I take it?"

Neal couldn't help a grimace. "Let's just say the food might have been better as well as the music – but the rest is much like the end of other long nights when I left the car. Come on, Peter expects us in the house."

Mozzie's eyes darted nervously to the other side of the street while his hand sneaked towards the keys.

"Maybe I just – uh –"

"Don't you dare, Moz. Don't you dare."


	14. Pulling Strings

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

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Pulling Strings

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Elizabeth is five when she is presented with the creepiest doll she has ever seen. But great-grandma Patty is very old by then, and quite senile (according to her cousins) so she's willing to forgive her and, being a polite and considerate child with puberty still years away, she dutifully lugs the horrible thing around all day.

Normally the doll would have then gone the way of all unwanted toys and been unobtrusively buried in some cupboard … if not for the older sister of her best friend who had been bribed into keeping an eye on the smaller children while the grown-ups sat down for coffee. Said older sister got it in her head to regale the gaggle of small birthday party guests with an elaborate tale how the ugly doll was possessed by an ancient, evil spirit of a medieval witch and was wont to wander off and do terrible, unnamed things if unwatched by the person who had received it as a gift and thus been appointed its guardian. This tale agreed so much with Elizabeth's first impression of getting her soul sucked out by those uncanny, large brown doll eyes that she took it quite seriously, and for sure she did not want terrible, unnamed things happening because she neglected her assigned duty.

So, wherever she went, the creepy doll had to go. The playground – the doll had to come. Going shopping with her mother – the doll was carried with them. Visiting friends – the doll was never far. She drew a line at sleeping in the same bed as it; usually she put it on the nightstand and weighted it down with the heaviest book she could lift but unfortunately her parents were in the habit of coming in before going to bed themselves and taking it off again.

This lasted about half a year until Elizabeth decided she was too old to believe in ghost stories any longer. Only to discover – much to her chagrin – that by then she had so often made a scene when the doll was about to be left behind that both her parents were very careful to make sure it was always on hand. What her psychiatrist father thought of his daughter's attachment to the thing was anybody's guess but her mother was actually quite delighted she had taken such a fancy to a Poor-Girl doll instead of a common barbie and Elizabeth – still polite and considerate with puberty several years away (though, boy, were her parents in for a surprise in the future) – did not have the heart to disappoint her.

She made some sneaky attempts to 'forget' the creepy doll in the library or on a bench in the park but her parents always proudly presented her with it again, going to considerable lengths to prevent inevitable (in their minds) tears and heartache. So Elizabeth decided that stronger measures were called for. Much as she hated the dark, creepy basement; the horrible, creepy doll she hated more. And though her heart was hammering nervously she seized the first opportunity to slip down the stairs and, resolutely braving cobwebs and spiders, thrust the doll into the depths of a crawl space. Brushing herself off frantically after the deed she then allowed herself the little triumph of sticking out her tongue at it…

… which immediately popped back into her mind the moment her parents handed over the horrible doll with the same obvious pride she remembered so well. But by then she had acquired a second family of a dog and husband; who would not only risk life and limb to protect her from ruthless criminals but also in smooth combined effort didn't hesitate to free her of the creepy nemesis of her childhood.

And that, Elizabeth decided that evening, was definitely the most wonderful birthday present of them all.


	15. Stealing Home

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

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Stealing Home

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All's well that ends well one would think – but though the priceless baseball is recovered and now safely locked away until its display case is restored Geoffrey still gets an earful from the management how it could have been stolen in the first place. He will hear more of it tomorrow, undoubtedly, yet for today he is glad to close the door on this particular conversation. Returning to his own office with a silent sigh he is surprised to find a familiar young man in one of the visitor chairs.

"Mr Caffrey. Sorry you were kept waiting. Does Agent Burke need anything else?"

"Oh, no, no." Caffrey shakes his hand and smiles tightly. "This is … more of a private matter, actually."

Geoffrey raises his brows in question. He would have asked the younger man to take a seat but Caffrey still has hold of his hand, regarding him almost searchingly. He looks oddly different out of his suit. Younger, for lack of a better word though Geoffrey doesn't think it quite captures the impression he gets. The slicked back hair accentuates his slender face and that makes him look … raw. And he is obviously rattled about something although he is hiding it well. Then Caffrey's eyes flicker away briefly and back again as if coming to a decision and he abruptly draws his hand back.

"I owe Agent Burke."

The statement is calm, matter-of-fact. Carrying a seriousness Geoffrey doesn't know what to make of yet.

"I always thought he had it all," Caffrey continues after a heartbeat. Still calm. Still matter-of-fact. Still deadly serious. "A good childhood. College. A beautiful wife, a dog, a house. A job he loves and excels at. I always thought this was exactly where he wanted to be in life. Working for the FBI, in the New York white collar division. And it _is_."

Caffrey falls silent for a moment. Visibly thinking.

"He played pro, you know." He suddenly laughs and rubs the back of his neck. "I actually purchased his rookie card on the internet this morning before going undercover; delivered by courier, with a little luck it'll be waiting for me already when I get home."

Another pause as he seems to sort the things he wants to say or possibly struggling with how he wants to say them.

"He gave it up. Not because he had to, exactly, but because it was the sensible thing to do in the long run. And until today I never knew about it or how much he still longs for that dream. For standing out there on that pitcher's mound and hear the crowd chant his name."

And a hard edge creeps into his voice and the blue of his eyes. Uncompromising. Ferocious. Brutally honest.

"I owe him," he repeats, reaching into his leather jacket, "Of all people Peter is the only one who sees me for what I am and yet also sees me for what I could be. Believes that if I just try, just swing for the fences … that then anything's possible. Mr Geoffrey, I have here a perfectly valid check over one hundred sixty thousand dollars. The FBI can't touch Gordon Taylor, it's covered and it's legal. And what I want to know is if I donate it to Yankee Stadium, right here and now, will it get me and Agent Burke down there on that pitcher's mound, this evening, to throw a few balls around?"

For a long, long moment they simply stand staring at each other. Then Geoffrey wordlessly takes the check.


	16. Judgment Day

Disclaimer: White Collar belongs to Jeff Eastin, USA Network et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Judgment Day

* * *

There are several things Elizabeth will later remember about the day Neal ran.

Anger. At Phil Kramer for treating Neal like a slave with no human feelings. For going behind Peter's back. For destroying Peter's belief in his former mentor.

Pity. For Neal who had fought so hard – though not always wisely – for his home, his family, his new-found place in this world. Only to lose it all in the blink of an eye.

Grief. For herself. For Peter and June and Sara for losing this brilliant, maddening, so utterly unique young man who had brightened and complicated their lives for the past two years.

Regret. About what the future must bring.

But most of all she will remember the moment the door of her house opened and she turned in nervous anticipation on the couch. Will remember Peter's face, a stranger's and still as stone, as he said _"Neal ran."_ And then added _"I told him to." _

Will always remember how he turned away and walked up the stairs with heavy steps; as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.


End file.
